


Fairest

by mirawonderfulstar



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mirror Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 03:57:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12645621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirawonderfulstar/pseuds/mirawonderfulstar
Summary: “One man cannot summon the future, but one man can change the present.” In the end, it isn’t the words of that other Kirk that persuade Spock to destroy the empire. It’s McCoy. Episode tag for Mirror, Mirror.





	Fairest

**Author's Note:**

> First published in Spiced Peaches L. 
> 
> I wrote this because I’ve always wondered if it’s possible that the mind meld in Mirror, Mirror could have led that universe’s Spock to develop an affection for McCoy and I thought it would be fun to explore that. I don't know a ton about the canon of the mirrorverse but I thought this might be interesting to write anyway.

Spock’s captain, chief medical officer, chief engineer, and communications officer have been back aboard their Enterprise for two point three hours. There is work to be done and decisions to be made regarding the future position of captaincy, but in this crucial time, Spock is uncharacteristically distracted.

_Doctor McCoy has a plentitude of human weaknesses- sentimental, soft. You may not tell me what I want to know, but he will._

Spock can’t stop thinking about that other doctor, about the meld. The Vulcan technique had always proved to be a useful weapon and he had no qualms about using it to extract information from the other universe’s chief medical officer; he’d been taking information out of people’s minds for years. He has the practice to do it quickly, efficiently- logically. The precision of a surgeon.

_Sentimental, soft._

He had known the other McCoy would be no match for him, because he knew McCoy. Not well, certainly- they were nothing like friends. But he knew his work, his rank, his reputation within Starfleet. How he’d risen to chief medical officer aboard the flagship of the Empire. The man had developed the post-agonizer serum at the age of twenty six. His work classifying segments of the ventral intraparietal area had led to several breakthroughs in interrogation techniques. He had all but written the book on modern anesthesia and his methods of handling prisoners of the Empire were taught at the academy. He was an effective doctor, skilled in all the tools of his trade, but he was no sadist. He kept his sickbay stocked with instruments for causing pain, but Spock had, on more than one occasion, heard of him turning somebody over to security rather than deal with them himself. These data points all added up to a theory that McCoy was a man who had little stomach for inflicting suffering. The meld with the other McCoy would seem to have confirmed that, assuming people’s underlying personalities were the same across universes- and what Spock had seen of the other Kirk would seem to suggest that yes, they were.

The meld with the other McCoy had been even more enlightening than Spock had expected, and he couldn’t help but feel that he had gotten somewhat more than he had bargained for. The other McCoy was indeed sentimental. It had not been the captain’s decision to save Spock’s life after all- it had been McCoy’s. McCoy considered his Spock to be a valuable friend, someone he would gladly give his life to protect. Someone he- in his own thoughts- cherished. The idea of leaving Spock to die on the floor of the sickbay tore at the other McCoy’s heart with such intensity somebody different than Spock might have found it comical.

Spock found this intensity of feeling baffling. The relationship between the other McCoy and his Spock possessed no apparent romantic or sexual dimension, although if the mind of McCoy was anything to go by this was not for lack of desire. His physiological reaction to the meld was proof enough of that. And yet the bond McCoy felt to his Spock was one of the strongest Spock had ever seen in all his years of melding to find information in the minds of others. Spock could not account for it.

For one thing, there were too many variables. It may be any number of things, such as the possibility that the people from the other universe were able to form stronger connections due to the nature of their Starfleet. Spock’s world was a brutal, harsh place and it was not unlikely that this other universe, simply by virtue of being a safer place to possess human weaknesses, encouraged the growth of those weaknesses.

But then again, it may be something specific to McCoy. If that was the case, would it be true of this universe’s McCoy as well? Did this universe’s McCoy feel that deeply?

_Sentimental._

Spock knows it is illogical, even dangerous, to continue to indulge this distraction, but nonetheless, he finds his thoughts continuing to fixate on this point, on the memories and emotions he had experienced during the meld. He keeps coming back to the same image and associated feelings: of McCoy leaning over a biobed sickbay, looking down at another Spock who is blinking up at him with recognition and surprise in his eyes, and McCoy is _so open_ in this moment, the emotions here a veritable ocean of the kind of feelings so easily exploited. A swirling mix of relief and guilt, affection and self-loathing. The other Spock says something which McCoy responds to with a quip, covering a blossoming feeling of protectiveness.

Spock doesn’t know the full context for this scene, but that doesn’t surprise him; if McCoy’s surrounding memories were to be trusted it had happened at approximately the same stardate as his own Enterprise’s resolution to the infestation of Deneva. It had been necessary to exterminate an entire planet of colonists to prevent the spread of an alien parasite, but evidently the other Enterprise crew had come up with some other solution, and in the process their Spock had been injured. Yet another reason Spock cannot stop dwelling on this memory- it seems that their conflict resolution strategies had resulted in less loss of life and resources, and that could only be a good thing.

The shift ends. Spock realizes he has not dedicated any time to planning his assassination of the captain. The other Kirk’s logic had been sound, and that is reason enough to go through with it, but Spock… Spock has other considerations.

The Empire will fall someday, with or without Spock and the captain’s weapon. What Spock needs to know, now, in this moment, is whether the long term benefits are worth the short term losses Spock will personally experience if he chooses to go through with the other Kirk’s suggestions. What he needs, he believes, is to know more about the other universe. He needs… no, Spock amends. He _wants_ the other McCoy back. He wants to know what he is like in that place, how he functions in a world where he is not primarily concerned with protecting his own life. He desires to know he’s capable of surviving it.

He will never know, however, because the other McCoy is gone, and he’s taken the window to what Spock is in that place with him. There is no way to know what might have been for Spock there, whether he is noble and self-sacrificing and still happy, because the connection between the universes has closed and Spock is stuck here with the Empire and the decision to kill the captain and the McCoy who has been on his ship for the last two years.

Spock hesitates in the turbolift, vacillating between heading to the captain’s quarters or his own quarters to think. But rather than going to either place, he heads to sickbay, trying to justify himself as he goes.

It’s entirely possible that there is some commonality between what makes that McCoy the man he is, and the McCoy on board the Enterprise now.  And if that’s the case, McCoy would make a valuable ally. Taking the captaincy will place Spock in a targetable position, and having the chief medical officer visibly on his side would do much to minimize these risks; nobody wants their doctor on their bad side. With this reassurance, Spock heads in to see him.  

He enters sickbay to find McCoy grumbling to himself as he surveys the skulls on his shelf, running a hand over the empty spot in his collection.

“Somethin’ I can do for you, commander?” he says as he turns to face Spock. Spock debates simply stepping forward and melding with McCoy, but the memory of the other McCoy’s discomfort and sense of violation stops him. Instead he looks pointedly at the empty spot on the shelf.

“You appear to have lost something, doctor.”

McCoy huffs a short laugh. “You’d know better than me, I’ve heard. The rumor is that one of the men from the other universe smashed my homo habilis skull over your head.”

“You’ve heard correctly. It was only your counterpart’s quick action that prevented my untimely death.”

McCoy raises an eyebrow. “The other McCoy saved you?”

“Yes.” Spock replies simply. He stares into McCoy’s blue eyes, a rather pointless and self-indulgent action, as it won’t provide him any new information; Vulcan telepathy is entirely based on touch.

It unsettles McCoy, however, for he looks away and turns back to the shelf. “They’re more trusting over there.” He says, moving an australopithecine skull to minimize the gap in his collection. “Kirk got their first officer to let him out of the brig and talk to him so the trait even extends to half-Vulcans.”

“I doubt that would have been the only factor in your counterpart’s decision.”

McCoy spins around again and fixes Spock with a glare. “What exactly are you trying to imply, Mr Spock?”

“Imply? Nothing.” Spock says, choosing his words carefully as he takes a step forward. “I was merely commenting on the nature of parallel universes.”

McCoy’s eyes dart downward at the shortened distance between them, then over Spock’s shoulder at the door. Has the man always been so obvious, so easy to read? Spock doesn’t know. His previous attentions towards McCoy had been focused on assessing whether he presented a threat towards himself or the captain.   

“Well, as I don’t think I care for your commentary,” McCoy begins acerbically,  “and as my shift is over, I’ll be going. I have a very long and complicated report to write, as I’m sure you do.” McCoy squares his shoulders and attempts to move past Spock, but Spock catches him by the wrist, an echo of his earlier interaction with the other McCoy.

“Doctor,” Spock begins, “I will speak frankly to you.”  

“Like hell you will.” McCoy snarls, reaching for his service-issue dagger. Spock knocks it out of his hand and holds him still.

“If my intention was to harm you, I would have done so already.” Spock said. “I wish to discuss today’s events with you.”

McCoy blinks, surprised, then quickly smooths his expression over. “You’ll read the report in a day or so, anyway.”

“Off the record, doctor. I find I have some very specific questions.” Spock loosens his grip on McCoy’s wrists. “Please accompany me to my quarters, we will not be monitored there.”

McCoy’s eyes widen and a faint grin flickers on his face. “Is this some kind of come-on? All those comments about Vulcan biology I make during your routine physicals get filtered through that brain of yours as flirting?”

Spock can feel himself flushing and chastises himself.

“My god. It was a come-on.” McCoy says, his features growing more serious. “That head wound must have affected you worse than you thought.” He looks around and his eyes land on his scanning equipment by the nearest biobed.

“That won’t be necessary, doctor.” Spock says, cutting off McCoy’s inquiry to look him over before he can voice it. “Will you accompany me?”

“You giving me an option?” McCoy says gruffly, pulling his hands out of Spock’s grip. Spock lets him.

“Yes. This is not in an official capacity, it would be imprudent of me to exercise my position over you to gain your compliance.”

McCoy looks at him for a long time, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “That doesn’t stop most people on board this ship.”

 Spock has to concede that’s true; the captain has been taking young women to his quarters under threats of political punishment or pain of death for years.

“Yes, doctor. However, I am not most people.”

“No.” McCoy says, still studying his face. “No, I guess you’re not. Alright, let’s go then.” McCoy strides towards the door and Spock, taken aback by the abruptness of this decision, follows a moment after.

“I do expect you to have some good liquor in your cabin at least.” McCoy says as they head down the corridor together. “None of that synthehol garbage. I’m not a cheap date.”

“Vulcans don’t drink alcohol.” Spock tells him.

“I can’t say that surprises me, Mr Spock.”

 

Half an hour later they are seated in Spock’s quarters eating dinner. McCoy sprinkles a white powder over his food, which Spock recognizes as an old chemical used to detect poison, nearly fallen out of use in the empire, and very difficult to come by. Spock raises an eyebrow. So few people are in the habit of carrying around thalamide that few would recognize it. Personally, he would have scanned the food with a tricorder had their positions been switched; it is a show of power to silently accuse the person who had convinced you to dine with them of trying to poison you. But, Spock muses, to move unnoticed through a hostile world is its own kind of power.

“Do people usually assume that powder is medicinal?” Spock asks, and McCoy’s face drains of color, but when he speaks his voice is light and even.

“They do, in fact. I tell them I suffer from an intolerance to the chemical additive to replicated food, if it turns out there wasn’t anything in it.”

Spock hums. “And do you?”

“Of course not, all that research going around a decade ago about the long term effects of nutrient deficiecny in members of Starfleet was hogwash, but most people still hold onto that particular suspicion.” McCoy said, taking a bite of his food and grinning at Spock.

“Ingenious.” Spock says, starting his own food. “It certainly fits with your reputation.”

McCoy watches him eat in silence, frowning. “Are you gonna elaborate on that or am I meant to take it as an insult?”

“You may if you choose, but I merely meant that the popular perception of you among the crew has you as set in your ways, a bit old fashioned, and rather more fond of homeopathic medicines than men of science should be.”

“An old country doctor, eh?” McCoy says with another small grin, and a memory flashes before Spock’s eyes of his other self staring at him in disbelief as the other McCoy says a similar thing. “Glad to know people buy into that persona.”

“Am I to take it that it is cultivated?”

“What do you think, Mr Spock?”

“I think I should disable the monitoring devices in this room before we continue this conversation.” Spock says, standing up and moving towards a panel on the wall. He turns off all the recording equipment that feeds back to the ship and can be called up if the Empire ever needs it. When he returns to the table McCoy has stretched out in his seat, his legs crossed at the ankle, and is watching Spock with a strange half-smile on his face.

“What’s Captain Kirk gonna make of that if he ever has reason to go through today’s recordings?”

“I would give him reason to assume that I wanted privacy to take you to bed. However, the captain is not going to go through today’s recordings.”

“Oh no? And why’s that?”

“Because, doctor,” Spock begins, looking at him very seriously, “I have been ordered to kill the captain by planet’s dawn and take control of the Enterprise.”

McCoy doesn’t even blink. “Are you going through with it?”

“That depends on whether I can count on your support as new captain.”

Now McCoy blinks. “Me? Why me?”

Spock hesitates, then settles on his justification. “The crew won’t wish to have the man in charge of their health against them, and will fall in line behind me.”

McCoy nods slowly, straightening up in his seat again and resting his clasped hands on the table in front of him. “That’s not all, is it.” He is giving Spock a look that makes his heart pound, because the other McCoy had given him the same look when he had woken up in the infirmary, just before the meld. A searching look, like he could see right through Spock and isn’t sure he likes what he finds but is holding out on judgement. Spock realizes he wants McCoy’s approval, and not just his usefulness as an ally.

“No, that’s not all. When the people from the other universe were here, I melded with your counterpart. It… confirmed some suspicions I have had about you since you joined the Enterprise.”

McCoy stands up abruptly and makes to move towards the door, but Spock leaps from his seat and cuts him off.

“Please hear me out.”

“Get out of my way.”

“You shall not leave until I’ve said what I mean to say.”

“I should have known this was some kind of blackmail.” McCoy hisses, glaring at Spock. “Leverage me onto your side with something you think you learned from someone who isn’t even me, is that your plan? You bastard.” He grabs his dagger and Spock raises his hands, a clear sign of surrender. McCoy takes the opportunity to push him back against the door and hold the dagger to his throat, under his ear.

“Doctor McCoy. I have no plans to harm you but I must insist you put down your weapon and listen to me.”

“Why?” McCoy is shorter than Spock, and because of this the arm holding the dagger is not in an optimal place to take full advantage of his body weight. Spock estimates he has a greater than 80% chance of pulling McCoy’s arm away and subduing him without sustaining injury. He doesn’t move.

“Because I believe that together we can end the Empire.”

McCoy’s eyes flicker from one of Spock’s to the other, narrowed with suspicion. “Why would I want that?”

“You don’t belong in this universe any more than your counterpart did.”

McCoy’s smile is very thin. “You’re mistaken. I like the universe the way it is and I’m not about to align myself with somebody who wants to throw it into chaos.”

“Do you truly, doctor? Are you truly happy with your life and who you are?”

McCoy watches him a moment longer, then slowly, very slowly, lowers the weapon. He backs up and watches Spock from a distance, turning it over and over in his hands.

“I thought as much.” Spock says.

“I’m not saying I’m on your side!” McCoy snaps. “But… I’ll listen.”

“Very well, I will endeavor to be brief. The Captain Kirk from the other universe told me that our Captain Kirk has a weapon that will make me invincible. He pointed out to me the illogic of our empire, which by my estimates has another two and a half centuries before total collapse. I have no desire to command this ship, but I _do_ desire to live in a world where ascending the ranks through assassination is not an option, and more peaceable solutions to our problems are seen as noble and virtuous rather than weak and cowardly. Furthermore, I believe you also desire a world like this; even if I had not seen in your counterpart the kind of man you have the potential to be, your distaste for violence and death are writ large in your conduct towards me thus far this evening and in your history as a medical professional.”

McCoy’s expression is perfectly blank. “And you want to undermine the stability of the empire, throw us all into another war, risk tens of thousands of lives… because an alternate version of Jim Kirk said you should.”

“No, doctor. Because in that universe many people were significantly happier.”

McCoy sets his dagger on the table. “I know.” He runs a hand over his face. “I was there, remember?”

“So you were.” Spock nods. “What did you see there?”

“Not much, because as soon as we stepped off the transporter platform the captain and Uhura started yelling and we were thrown into the brig. But like I said, everyone evidently could trust each other there, because their Spock let the captain talk him into interrogating him privately. Didn’t last very long and he came back after ten minutes but…” McCoy smirked. “I doubt very much you would have extended the same trust under similar circumstances.”

Spock isn’t sure what he would have done. The events from his perspective had been so different; four of his crewmates had been acting oddly and the captain had jeopardized his command, but they had been similar enough to fool Spock for a while. He wondered how his counterpart had felt, if it had been as through four strangers had appeared in place of his friends. “I don’t know one way or the other.” Spock responds finally, looking down at the table where McCoy’s dagger still sits.

“Well, that other you cared about the other Kirk, Scotty, Uhura, and me pretty deeply, I think. He seemed agitated, even for a Vulcan.”

“Yes,” Spock says, “that would seem to concur with the information I gathered from the other you.” Spock says, looking up.

“Spock-“ McCoy begins, then cuts himself off. McCoy has moved even closer, standing chest to chest with Spock.

“Doctor.” Spock says, feeling his pulse speed up at McCoy’s proximity and willing it to slow.

“What was the other me like?” McCoy has a hungry look in his eyes now, roaming over Spock’s face and neck.

Spock swallows. “Would you like me to show you?”

“Yes.” McCoy murmurs, then kisses him. He tastes like the meat he just ate and something that reminds Spock of almonds underneath. Spock thinks of cyanide.

His tongue still in McCoy’s mouth, Spock reaches a hand out to McCoy’s temple and melds with him, pushing the memories he saw of the other McCoy to the forefront. McCoy shivers a little under his touch but does not break the kiss, wrapping an arm around Spock and holding him in place. He is surprisingly strong for a human. Spock senses a ripple of amusement from McCoy at that thought, followed by a great wave of sorrow as they reach the portion of the other McCoy’s memories that deal with his relationships with his shipmates. McCoy aches watching their counterparts laugh together, playfully tease each other, protect each other. Watches Jim prioritize the saving of lives over his orders from Starfleet. He breaks the kiss and with it, the meld.

“They’re like children.” McCoy’s voice comes out slightly brittle. “All that bubbling happiness and optimism, resolutely ignoring how impermanent it is.”

“I was never so happy as a child.” Spock points out.

“Me neither.” McCoy replies with a wry smile.

They look at each other in silence a moment longer. Spock’s hand comes up to cup McCoy’s face.

“I’m glad the captain and the rest of you returned. I’d hate to think about the kind of destruction our world could have wrought in theirs.” Spock says. McCoy shakes his head.

“Even if we’d had a plan to, we couldn’t have. You’ve seen it yourself, from the other one- they know each other too well.”

“Their strength is their love.” Spock agrees.

McCoy sniffs. “Seems a fragile way to live.”

_I submit to you that your empire is illogical, because it cannot endure._

Spock fixes him with a stare. “Does it, doctor?”

McCoy laughs, open and warm. The sound seems to echo in Spock, though the meld has ended. “So when are you planning to kill Jim?”

“This evening. After I am finished with you.” Spock pulls McCoy flush against him and leans in for another kiss.

 


End file.
